Cogito ergo sum

Yep, it's that time of year again...the time to look back at everything you did (or didn't do) over the past 365.25/366 days and take stock of your life.

I hate that bullshit.

To me, the past is the past. There's no changing it, so don't fret about it. The future is totally unpredictable, so don't stress about it. All we truly have is the present. So you should make it count. And shit.

I've been in a substantially better mood lately. The new meds help. Ritalin, ironically. No, I wasn't diagnosed with some latent ADHD or anything, the psychiatrist in his infinite wisdom thought a small dose of a stimulant might help me out a bit. It does.

But that gives me pause. I take pills to make me a reasonably happy person. Is that right? Am I really that much of a dysfunctional "Debby downer" that I have to take highly regulated and tightly controlled medication to make myself tolerable to myself? Or is life really so craptastic that I need something, a chemical something, to make it livable? Either way, not a good outlook for the longevity of my liver.

The Christmas retail season at the store where I work was crazy and relatively profitable for myself. Some weeks I got very close to working 40 hours. That's when it really pays to be an hourly employee, even if you only make shit-fifty an hour. Kept me outta trouble and my mind off my worries. The Ritalin definitely helped me keep up with the frenetic pace, late nights, early mornings, and the inescapable "Christmas creeps" who crawl out of the woodwork to make the season merry and bright. 

But now things are going to slow waaaaaaaaay down. Like I'll be lucky to pull in 10 hours on the clock per week slow. It's probably time to start looking for a second job. I like the craft store just fine, but when they only schedule you two days per week, then call and tell you not to show up for one shift and that the other one's hours have been slashed in half, you start to really feel the sting and burn of perpetual brokedom. Last year in January and February, I had a couple of paychecks that were $64 and $48 after taxes. Mind you, I only get paid every two weeks. Yeah, feel the burn of perpetual poverty. 

So, on the hunt for a second job I go. 

The old romantic life is highly unsatisfactory still. I think I could come out of my armor-plating a bit and go on a date or two, but I don't seem to have any interested men in my vicinity. The last time I gave out my number (albeit, with bitchy intent), I got put in my place pretty good, so I'm not apt to try that one any time soon. I'm also not going to join any dating web sites. The last time I was on one of those, I had endless declarations of undying love from a bunch of men older than my father, which I find repulsive and creepy. So, yeah, that ain't happenin' either. So, in other words...

I'm not only hunting for a second job, I need to collect some more cats while I'm at it.

Wish me good luck, godspeed, and a free truckload of kitty litter!